The End
by SantaClaustrophobia
Summary: Cecilia Rigby's aunt is killed in front of her eyes and she is kidnapped by Death Eaters.  When Voldemort gives her to Severus Snape as a present, she resigns herself to a bleak future.  There's no way she could ever begin to trust Snape, is there?
1. Flourish & Blott's

FULL SUMMARY: Cecilia Rigby, a student at Hogwarts, is having a REALLY bad day. In one fell swoop, her aunt, a prominent member of the Order of the Phoenix, is killed in front of her eyes, and Cecilia is kidnapped by Death Eaters. When Voldemort gives her to our favorite Potions master as a sort of "present," Cecilia begins to lose hope and resigns herself to a bleak future. But is Severus Snape really the merciless Death Eater she thinks he is? There's no way she could ever begin to trust him-- is there?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter takes place after Dumbledore's death but before the Death Eaters go after the Seven Harrys. It also takes place after Charity Burbage's murder. Just trying to establish a general sort of timeline. If any of you are familiar with my other story, "Blackbird Singing in the Dead of Night," this is NOT the same Cecilia Rigby... I just like the name! Haha. Anyway, I must confess that I do not own any of the characters except Cecilia Rigby and a few made-up ones here and there. Severus Snape, Voldemort, and all that lot belong to J.K. Rowling (lucky her!) If you like the story, leave a review and let me know! I'd love to hear from you! Enjoy.

Cecilia Rigby glanced at Gringott's as she hurried down Diagon Alley. She could see that two menacing wizards wearing black cloaks had taken the goblins' usual spot at the front doors. She glanced sideways at the tall woman walking next to her. She asked her aunt, "Are you sure it's safe to be here?"

Delia Hathaway did not immediately answer, her eyes roving the crowd. "Don't worry, you're with me," she whispered. Her aunt had her right hand tucked inside her robe, and Cecilia knew her to be clutching her wand firmly. Her left hand held Cecilia's right. "And besides, you still need to get new books and robes if they insist on bringing all the students back to Hogwarts this year," she said, a note of contempt clear in her voice. Delia's beautiful features were distorted slightly with barely-suppressed rage. She had sources in high places, and almost every one had confided that each child of age in Britain was being forced to come back to Hogwarts. Presumably so Death Eater eyes could be kept on them.

The truth was, her aunt's presence was the only thing that kept Cecilia merely uneasy and not frightened. Delia had told her many stories about joining the Order of the Phoenix before Cecilia was born, and how she had helped put a number of Death Eaters in Azkaban. No, she knew her aunt would protect her. She was a tough woman, even though she was in her mid-fifties, and still a member of the Order. From what other members had told her, she was truly a force to be reckoned with.

Cecilia took in what had become of Diagon Alley as they hurried towards Flourish and Blott's. Dumbledore had been murdered only two weeks ago, but already the alley was robbed of its former splendor. It hung heavy with a thick mist, no doubt brought on by the dementors stationed at every corner. Delia tried her best to skirt as far around the dementors as she could, muttering to Cecilia all the while, "Think happy thoughts, dear."

It was no use, though. Every time she passed one of the dementors, with their scabbed and rotting hands and hood-covered faces, she could think only of her parents. As yet another dementor came into view, she felt a familiar pang of grief reverberate through her chest. She tried her hardest to shake it off. Her parents were dead, killed by an unknown Death Eater more than ten years ago, and thinking about them was hardly going to bring them back. She had to be on her guard and could not afford to wallow in grief, no matter how much the dementors sought to bring it bubbling to the top of her consciousness.

Making their way down the shadowy, deserted street, they passed a large poster of Harry Potter affixed to a store window, emblazoned with the words, "Undesirable Number One." Cecilia chuckled mirthlessly. How ridiculous. She had never officially met Harry, since she was a (soon-to-be) sixth year Ravenclaw, but she had passed him a number of times in the hallways and heard of his exploits. He had always seemed like a good person to her, and she knew he cared deeply about his friends. One of the girls she talked to occasionally, Luna Lovegood, always sang his praises. "He's one of the nicest people I've ever met!" she exclaimed once, beaming at Cecilia. "Although I'm not sure he believes in Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. But still, he's very smart!" No, Cecilia did not think Harry to be an Undesirable, no matter what the number. Did that make him "The Chosen One," then? She didn't know, nor, she suspected, did anybody else. Nonetheless, she hoped he was safe at that moment.

They walked into Flourish and Blott's, Delia shutting the door behind them. There was nobody in the store save for the terrified-looking clerk, shaking behind the counter. "No worries, Alton," Delia said as kindly as she could manage. "We're here to get my niece some schoolbooks, nothing more." She began browsing the tall bookshelves, Cecilia trailing behind her. Cecilia kept one eye on the fidgeting clerk.

"You know him, Aunt Delia?" she inquired.

"Yes, Alton and I were friends during our time at Hogwarts," Delia answered. She noticed Cecilia's anxious expression as she stared at Alton, who was gulping nervously and looking from side to side. "Don't worry about him. Alton's always been an overly nervous fellow. I can't imagine how difficult these dark times must be for him." She glanced at Cecilia. "Stay close." She turned back to the bookshelves, selecting a heavy, leather-bound tome to peruse.

Cecilia sighed and slid a book from a shelf, riffling pages absentmindedly. Now that the dementors had aroused thoughts of her parents, she could not seem to keep them from her mind. Rupert and Cassandra Rigby had been members of the Order, too, persuaded to join by Cassandra's sister, Delia. They had fit in well, according to the stories Delia told her, because they were kind, brave people who were sick of having to fight to stay alive. They helped capture four Death Eaters before they retired, their fears assuaged by the fall of Voldemort and the birth of their baby girl. Shortly after Cecilia's fifth birthday, a rogue Death Eater, no doubt hoping to stay in his master's good graces if he should ever return, killed Rupert and Cassandra as they were on a walk not far from their home. Cecilia had been orphaned, and in her parents' joint will, they asked that she stay with her aunt Delia if that should ever occur. From that day forward, Delia had raised her as her own daughter, and taken good care of her.

While she was reminiscing, she had wandered next to the counter, in front of the doorway leading into the back half of the bookstore. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Alton gazing at her, his eyes wide. He looked around nervously, then beckoned her closer with one finger. Cecilia, puzzled, glimpsed her aunt, shuffling around at the front of the store. She glanced back at Alton, who was still motioning for her to come near. She walked slowly towards him. When she came close enough for her stomach to press against the edge of the counter, Alton suddenly reached over and grabbed the front of her shirt. Before she could even gasp, Alton whispered urgently, "Run. Run, while you still can."

A terrible chill swept down Cecilia's spine. As she spun toward her aunt, a jet of green light shot over her head and hit Alton in the chest. He crumpled behind the counter. She screamed, unable to tear her eyes away from the spot where Alton had fallen.

Suddenly, a rough, hairy arm came from behind her right shoulder, reaching across her neck and pinning her to him. "Don't make another sound, darling," a deep, leering voice whispered in her ear. The man's left hand held a wand at her throat. She nodded once, trembling so hard it was a wonder she could stand.

Delia burst out from behind a bookshelf and skidded to a halt. She was holding out her wand and breathing heavily. "Delia," the man holding her sneered.

"Lovely to see you again, Amycus," she replied softly. Cecilia tried to wriggle a hand free so she could reach into her pocket for her wand, but Amycus had her arms pinned tightly to her chest.

"The joys of school shopping, eh?" rang another male voice. Cecilia turned her head slightly to the right and saw another black-robed man emerging from the doorway behind her.

"Dolohov," Delia said, almost cordially.

"You've been a bother for far too long, Delia," Amycus snarled. "It's time you retire from the Order." He pressed the wand harder into Cecilia's neck and she whimpered. "Permanently."

Delia's eyes, large and concerned, came to rest on Cecilia. "Do not hurt my niece," she implored the two men.

"So _that's_ who this is," Amycus growled. He let go of her and turned her around to face him, gripping both of her shoulders tightly. He looked at her, his eyebrows raised. He was scarcely taller than she was, a stout, thick man. "Pretty little thing, isn't she?"

Delia screamed, "Let her go!" Amycus laughed, swiveling Cecilia around and bringing his wand to her throat again. Cecilia had never seen her aunt so angry before. Her upraised wand trembled slightly and her face was flushed.

"Good-bye, Delia," Dolohov said, raising his wand high. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

A bolt of green light struck Delia.

"No!" Cecilia yelled.

Several things happened at once.

Cecilia stomped on Amycus's foot as hard as she possibly could, and he spun away, roaring in pain. She whipped her wand out of her pocket, pointed it at Dolohov, and screamed, "Impedimenta!" Dolohov was lifted off his feet and slammed into a wall of books, which cascaded from the shelf and fell around him. Cecilia ran to her aunt, who had fallen backward onto the floor. Her eyes, still open, gazed blankly at the ceiling. "Aunt Delia, no! Please! Come back!" She knew she was being foolish, her aunt was already dead, yet she still clung to her arm. "You can't be dead, you can't be!" The rest of the world, unimportant, disappeared as tears filled her eyes.

"Stupefy!"

Amycus's voice shouted from behind her, and then all was dark.


	2. The Beginning

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to lunalovegood12321 for the review and words of encouragement! And the Author Alert notices I've received are an excellent sign. I can say tentatively that I'll post a new chapter roughly once a week… I like to stay about four chapters ahead of what I've last published. My last story (Blackbird Singing in the Dead of Night) got a bit derailed when I ran out of incentive and inspiration, but I'm really passionate about this story, I enjoy writing it, and I can say with some certainty that I'll continue writing it for as long as I possibly can. Anyway, enjoy this chapter (and don't forget to review!)

* * *

Cecilia ached everywhere. She didn't know anything but that fact. A flickering light shone through her eyelids. She thought she could dimly hear Amycus and another, unknown, voice.

"What news do you have?" the high, cold voice asked.

"We have disposed of Delia Hathaway, my Lord. Her body lies in Flourish and Blott's, along with the owner, Alton McKnight, as an example of what happens to those who try to oppose you," Amycus answered.

With a dull thrill of terror, Cecilia realized that the one speaking must be none other than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She tried to move her hand. Cecilia thought she felt arms around her. Maybe that meant Dolohov or Amycus was carrying her.

"And what is this?" Voldemort, (for it was much easier to think the name than to say it out loud,) must've finally noticed her.

"Hathaway's niece," Dolohov's voice rang from close by. "We've checked her out. An upcoming sixth-year. Ravenclaw house."

"Why didn't you simply kill her?" Voldemort smirked.

"We could if you'd like," Amycus replied eagerly. "I just thought we should bring her to you first, in case you needed a prisoner. Her aunt was very high up in the Order of the Phoenix. You could get the Order to release a few Death Eaters in exchange for her."

"I need not take orders from _you_, Amycus," Voldemort snapped. Suddenly, she heard the _swish_ of a robe coming closer. A thin, cool finger touched her cheek. Cecilia, weak as she was, still needed to fight not to squirm in horror. There was silence for a few more seconds as the finger traced her forehead and the bridge of her nose. The finger stopped moving, suddenly, lingering at her hairline, as if Voldemort had been struck with sudden inspiration. "Summon Severus," he said abruptly. "Put the girl in the dungeons, for now."

"With pleasure, my Lord," Dolohov uttered. As the one carrying her began moving and she was jostled back and forth, Cecilia fell back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Severus Snape strode purposefully into the Malfoys' dining room, his robes billowing. The door was closed behind him as he stood before Voldemort, who was sitting in an ornately carved chair situated in front of the fireplace. He bowed once. 

"You wished to see me, my Lord?"

"Yes," Voldemort answered. "I trust you find your new quarters comfortable?" His eyes seemed to penetrate Snape's, and he knew that the Dark Lord was using Legilimency even as he spoke. Snape fought to keep him out of his mind.

"Very much so. I cannot thank you enough."

Voldemort observed him silently for a moment, looking amused. "Well, you know that I reward those who are faithful to me, Severus. And you are certainly that. In fact," he paused slightly, twirling Lucius's wand between his fingers. Then he gazed at Snape again. "I have another reward for you. For your capture of Charity Burbage. The way is now clear for the Carrows to take teaching positions at Hogwarts."

"You are much too kind, my Lord," Snape murmured.

"Are you familiar with Delia Hathaway?" the Dark Lord asked.

"She is a member of the Order of the Phoenix, I think."

"Was," Voldemort corrected. "Amycus and Dolohov disposed of her only a few hours ago. However, they managed to capture her niece, Cecilia Rigby." A look of surprise flitted across Snape's face. "Do you know of the girl, Severus?"

"Yes, my Lord," he said. "She is a student of mine at Hogwarts."

Voldemort smiled mirthlessly. "How very interesting." He got up and turned to face the fireplace's crackling flames. "Amycus and Dolohov wish to kill her. What do you think, Severus?"

Snape blinked. "If it is what my Lord wishes."

The Dark Lord laughed. "No, actually, it is not quite what I wish." Without looking up from the fire, Voldemort said, "I am giving her to you, Severus."

There was a pause. "W-what?"

"She is your reward," Voldemort answered, still staring into the flames. "A present for all your hard work, including ridding me of Dumbledore. I trust you will accept?"

"My Lord, if I may, it would not be," he struggled to find words, "decent. She is one of my students."

"She _was_ one of your students, Severus. She cannot go back to Hogwarts now. You have two choices: To keep her or to kill her. Which would you prefer?"

"I would prefer that she live, my Lord," Snape said.

"Then I will have Dolohov bring her to your room at once." Voldemort turned around and smirked at Severus. "She is pretty, is she not?"

Snape stared at the floor. "Y-yes, my Lord."

"I know the life of a Death Eater can be lonely sometimes. And she is of pure blood, so I see no problem with you keeping her." He paused, and then spoke in a voice heavily laden with implications. "To do with what you will." Voldemort chuckled, then stepped in front of the chair and sat down again. "She can stay with you in your quarters. Mind you teach her her place, however. It is important that she learns, by force if necessary, that you are her master." He lazily hissed at Nagini, who slithered along the table to join him. Severus stepped out of the way as the snake glided past and onto Voldemort's shoulders as he continued speaking. "And that I, as your master, am _also _her master. She will no doubt try to escape, but her wand has been taken away and she will not be a threat. I have no doubt that you can handle her."

Snape said nothing. Voldemort stroked Nagini's great head.

"I trust your instincts, Severus," the Dark Lord continued. "I give you full permission to punish her as you see fit. Kill her if she becomes too troublesome."

Snape was silent for a long moment. Then he bowed again, slower this time, and when he spoke, he sounded very tired. "Thank you very much, my Lord."

With one hand, Voldemort waved for Snape to leave the room, which he did at once.


	3. Awake

Cecilia opened her eyes slowly. Her head still felt like it was being stabbed repeatedly, but, thankfully, the rest of her didn't hurt so much. She appeared to be lying on top of a comfortable quilt in a large bed. A gigantic, ornate, marble fireplace was set into the wall directly across from her. She turned her head to the right and a sharp pain shot behind her eyes. She gasped softly, blinked a few times, and then rested her gaze on the silver and green tapestries lining the wall around a large oak door. Slytherin colors.

In a second, the magnitude of the situation came rushing back to her. Her aunt had been killed. She had been captured. She had heard Voldemort and two Death Eaters discussing her fate. The Death Eaters had been told to put her in the dungeon. So why was she in a richly furnished bedroom? She sat up quite suddenly, ignoring the agony slicing through her brain. Cecilia looked to her left and, with a jolt, realized there was a man sitting in a chair less than five feet away from the bed. He had his head in his hands and appeared to be massaging his temples. He didn't seem to notice she was awake.

"Hello?" she whispered timidly. The man's head shot up to look at her, and Cecilia, shocked, thought that she knew him. "Pr-professor Snape?"

And as she said it, she knew it to be true. The same hooked nose, greasy, black hair, and dark eyes that had stared at her contemptuously in so many Potions classes were right in front of her. When he spoke, it was much softer than she had imagined it would be. "Hello, Cecilia."

Her mind raced. Snape was… a Death Eater. He… "You murdered Professor Dumbledore!" she shouted, her head throbbing. Professor Dumbledore's murderer was sitting right in front of her!

Snape sighed. "I cannot deny it. And do not exert yourself. You've been through a lot today."

How could he speak so calmly? "I _will_ exert myself if I so choose! Where am I? What does You-Know-Who plan to do with me?" She knew she should be frightened, but her anger at Snape and the despicable nature of his crime overrode all other emotions. Snape was silent for a moment. He was scrutinizing her carefully, almost as if he was trying to read her thoughts…

"Lie back down," Snape said suddenly, as he himself stood and approached the bed. "I'll answer your questions after I make something to get rid of that headache."

She didn't bother asking how he knew she had a headache. She knew the Dark Lord could employ Legilimency. It only made sense that his most faithful servant would be able to do so as well. "Forget the headache potion. I want answers," she said as coolly as she could. "If I am to die soon, I'd like to know."

Snape sighed again, then moved the chair closer to the side of the bed and sat down. "What do you want to know?"

"Where am I?"

"You are on the fourth floor of Malfoy Manor. This is my bedroom."

Cecilia was baffled. "Wait, why am I here? I was supposed to be in the dungeons."

He hesitated. "The Dark Lord requested that you be brought here."

Why was he speaking so kindly? Cecilia was even more confused. Was he condescending to her because she had a truly horrific fate in store? "What's going to happen to me?" she whispered, for the first time feeling fear.

Snape stood up and turned around to look out the window, his hands clasped behind his back. After what felt like an eternity, he said, "Nothing."

Cecilia blinked. "What?"

"You are going to stay with me. Indefinitely."

"I don't understand. What do you mean?" Cecilia said blankly.

"No more questions." Snape turned back to her abruptly. "I'm going to make a potion to relieve your headache, and then we can talk." Noticing the apprehensive look on Cecilia's face, his voice softened. "I'm not going to poison you, and I'm not going to hurt you."

"Like I'm going to take your word for it," Cecilia snorted derisively.

Snape ignored her and walked towards a door next to the fireplace. He turned back to her. "And don't try to escape. That would be most unwise." He then walked through the door into what Cecilia assumed was another room of the apartment.

He can't keep me here, Cecilia thought. I mean, the next time he walks through that door I can just disarm him… Cecilia stopped, her eyes widening. "My wand!" she whispered. She rummaged quickly through her pants pockets, but came up empty. Of course they would've taken it away. Disappointment flooded through her. She lay back down on the pillows and shut her eyes.

A few minutes later, Snape walked back into the room, a steaming goblet in his hand. "Drink this."

Cecilia did not move.

Snape sat down, on the bed this time. "I assure you that you will feel much better after you drink this."

"Your word means nothing," the girl said deliberately, not bothering to open her eyes.

There was a pause. "I swear on the grave of Albus Dumbledore that this is not a poison and I am not going to hurt you."

Cecilia sat up and eyed Snape carefully. He seemed sincere. She took the goblet, being careful not to let her fingers brush Snape's, and sniffed the potion within. It had a light, fruity smell. Making up her mind, she closed her eyes and drained the potion. At once, her headache lifted. She handed the cup back to Snape.

"Do you feel better now?" Cecilia nodded curtly. "Good." Snape set the goblet down on a small wooden table next to the bed. He stared at Cecilia for a few seconds and, although she had begun to feel drowsy, she resolutely returned his gaze. She was determined not to show any sign of weakness. She waited for him to speak.

When he did not, she said, "I'm not dead, but my aunt is. I'm not in the dungeons. In fact, I don't feel like a prisoner at all. Tell me what's going on." Cecilia yawned, her drowsiness becoming almost unbearable. With a start, she realized that Snape must have put something else in the potion to make her fall asleep. Her fears were confirmed when Snape merely stood up and said, "Close your eyes. I'll tell you everything you need to know tomorrow. I still need to work some of this out myself."

Cecilia opened her mouth to protest, but her argument no longer seemed important as the promise of sleep swirled through her brain. Her blurred vision registered Snape shutting the curtains over the window before she let unconsciousness claim her.


End file.
